


Bittersweet

by StarryNox



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, and also a diaspora fic...sorta., crosspost from ffn, i guess i'd classify this as a friendship fic of sorts?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNox/pseuds/StarryNox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Burgundy's life has turned upside-down, and, as always, Cilan is at fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Déplacement (Displacement)

What originated as a simple phone call home had turned into a nerve-wracking waiting game. Burgundy tightened her grip on the phone's receiver as her parents debated in rapid-fire Kalosian. For as long as she could remember, Kalosian was the language of secrets. The fluid words, unintelligible to Burgundy and her younger siblings, masked anything and everything her parents wanted to hide.

"Burgundy," her papa finally said, his expression more serious than usual. "Maman and I have decided that it's time we return to Kalos." Her grip tightened again out of instinct, preventing her from dropping the receiver instead, but it failed to stop her mouth from falling open in surprise.

"Why?" She blurted out the question almost without thinking, the hand hidden in her lap beginning to shake. She currently sat in Striaton City's Pokémon Center, smarting from her loss to the local gym leader, Cilan, who had the audacity to _lecture_ her in the midst of their battle. She had called home in search of reassurance—reassurance that she was a perfectly good pokémon trainer regardless of what that stupid, jerk of a connoisseur thought.

She hadn't anticipated her parents telling her she was about to lose the only home she'd ever known. The deceptively simple statement sent her mind reeling into overdrive as her parents tried to explain their decision. They missed their home and family. They had job offers too wonderful to pass up. All perfectly reasonable justifications, but Burgundy couldn't help but feel resentment churning in her gut.

She couldn't help but pin part of the blame on Cilan. If he hadn't said those _awful_ things, she wouldn't have called her parents. She wouldn't be having this conversation now.

She wouldn't know that her parents intended to leave Unova. Intended to give up on Unova, she might even say. Bitterness rose in the back of her throat. _She_ was still here, wasn't she? She was in the middle of challenging the Unovan Pokémon League! It was all fine and well for _them_ to transplant themselves to Kalos, but she could not do the same—it was too late in the season to start over.

Furthermore, the Kalosian media only covered the League Champions' battles against the Elite Four, if the few, hazy memories of the region of her parents' birth served her right. Even at her most confident, Burgundy knew she wouldn't make it that far. Swallowing and balling her hidden hand into a fist, she came to the realization that her parents would never see her compete in the League. They wouldn't be able to afford a plane ticket to Unova to see her in person. Even worse, she might not have the funds to go see them, either.

"I understand," she said, swallowing back the bitterness for the sake of her parents, who anxiously awaited her response. She inhaled slowly as their tense expressions melted into smiles. "Have you told Winslow and Ruby?"

"Not yet," her maman admitted. "We wanted to tell you first." Burgundy nodded stiffly, blinking rapidly to distract herself from the tears pricking at her eyes.

"You should tell them soon," she said tersely. "It's a big change." Winslow and Ruby would adapt. That, she knew. But it pained her to know that Winslow, at nine, would not receive his first pokémon from Professor Juniper, and that Ruby, only four, would probably forget that she ever lived in Unova.

Once the screen had gone dark, she slammed the phone back onto the receiver, ignoring any quizzical or disapproving stares from the Center lobby's other occupants. She marched up to the front desk, snatching her pokéballs from Nurse Joy with as much courtesy she could muster, and shut herself into her rented room. Not caring what anyone in the neighboring rooms might here, she allowed herself to succumb to her emotions—rage, terror, grief. Her sobs, punctuated with frustrated snarls, echoed in the confines of the room until her throat protested and her voice cracked.

Exhausted, she plopped onto her bed face-first, not bothering to change out of her dress. Deciding at the last minute that she didn't want to spend her time brooding alone, she shuffled around for Oshawott's pokéball and released her oldest companion, who had traveled with her only for a few months. Oshawott curled against her stomach as she let her eyes flutter shut.

Maybe everything would be better in the morning.


	2. Courage

One month. An entire month she had whittled away in Striaton City, which was quickly becoming one of her least favorite places in all of Unova, training so that she would beat that jerk of a connoisseur and exact her revenge. Three months of pouring over textbooks on pokémon connoisseuring in one of the local bookstores, wondering if just maybe that idiot had a point—he didn't—and three months of training her team to perfection. She had marched into the Striaton City Gym in full confidence that she would prove Cilan's evaluation wrong and win her Trio Badge.

The fact that he had already left town to travel with some other trainer left a sour taste in her mouth. She decimated Chili with her team, earning herself the Trio Badge currently pressed painfully into the palm of her hand as she stalked back towards the Pokémon Center, but it truly wasn't the same.

Upon her arrival in the Pokémon Center, she headed straight for the videophones to call home. In a type of morbid fascination, she kept up with every detail of her parents' move. She knew the addresses of every house they looked at, the pros and cons of each, the address and image of the house her parents had just settled on. She knew her parents tutored Ruby and Winslow in Kalosian, hoping to prepare them for a smooth transition. She simultaneously understood that they couldn't hope to do the same for her and hated them for not even trying.

Ruby and Winslow appeared on the video feed first, and Burgundy held up the Trio Badge proudly, telling a glorified version of the battle to her enchanted audience. Her eyes inadvertently focused on the wall behind her beloved siblings—a poor representation of the cheerful yellow house with the white wooden porch and the neat rows of azaleas growing in the front yard, with the kitchen sink that started leaking every few months like clockwork, with the pink-walled room once bursting with Pokémon plush toys that belonged to her.

The unintelligible sound of Ruby speaking in Kalosian ripped Burgundy from her train of thought, and she just barely stopped herself from scowling. More and more, Ruby forgot to speak in Unovan, or even the International Common Tongue. It couldn't be helped, Burgundy supposed, but it stung all the same. Winslow nudged Ruby on the other side of the video feed, smiling apologetically at Burgundy as he prompted Ruby to repeat what she said in a language Burgundy could understand.

Yet he, too, could understand what Ruby said, and she couldn't. Burgundy swallowed and assured her siblings that it was perfectly fine. She understood. She was glad that they were learning so quickly.

Rather than talking to her parents next, as was her usual fashion, Burgundy hung up shortly after the incident. Pressing her lips together, she dug through her bag, counting the money she'd earned from defeating Chili and deciding she had some cash to spare. She strode purposefully to the local bookstore, where she had become such a familiar face that the owner came out from behind the counter to chat as she walked in. She squeezed through the other shoppers down its crowded aisles until she found the section she sought—the miniscule language section. Scanning quickly through her options—mainly Unovan as a Second Language textbooks—she snagged a copy of the sole book on Kalosian and made her way back to the cashier.

While her purchase cost more than she would have liked, she felt marginally satisfied. Learning a new language on her own would be difficult, certainly, but she had more than enough determination—and motivation—to try.

Kalosian, as it turned out, shared some characteristics with Unovan. But it lacked any such similarities to ICT, the language she felt most confident in, on account of the fact that her parents had never managed to get a solid grasp on Unovan. The Kalosian words that sounded so elegant coming from her parents' mouths felt awkward and clumsy in her own, and the grammar was just short of indecipherable.

Burgundy realized she didn't even have a clue if what she said sounded right.

She knew perfectly well that patience had never been her strong suit. Learning Kalosian would take time, time she didn't want it to take. Time that, in some aspects, she felt she didn't have. She slammed the book shut once more, resolving to return later, when she was in a better mood.

She glanced at the Trio Badge sitting on the corner of her desk, not yet added to her meager collection. Her eyes narrowed on the section of the badge painted in green. He hadn't even given her the chance to prove herself, that lowlife.

Her thoughts wandered back to her days at the bookstore, reading text after text on the art of pokémon connoisseuring. She smirked. Perhaps it would take longer than her initial plan, but she knew exactly how she could get her revenge on that green-haired imbécile.

How hard could being a connaisseuse be?


	3. Plainte

Burgundy grit her teeth as she came to the stark realization that, in the year since her initial loss to Cilan, she had yet to achieve anything in terms of revenge. Every encounter had ended with her resounding defeat at his hand (or, even worse, defeat before she even had the chance to face off against him). All she had to show for her efforts was a C-class connoisseur license—hardly impressive when compared to his A-class license.

As much as she had celebrated receiving the certificate on thick paper declaring her new position, Burgundy knew full well that she needed to study much more if she wanted to actually do anything with her license. She needed to reach A-class if she hoped to make proper evaluations on her own, in a shop, and she needed at least a B-class license if she wanted to make her own evaluations as an assistant. In short, her C-class license was useful mostly as a stepping stone-much like a gym badge.

"How _pathétique_ ," she complained to Georgia over the Xtransceiver. "I never made a dent on that _bête_!" She folded her arms across her chest, sticking her nose up and letting out a little humph. "That no-good excuse of a connoisseur. I didn't even make it to the Pokémon League!"

"Well _maybe_ if you focused a little less on that ridiculous revenge of yours, you might've actually accomplished something noteworthy," Georgia sneered. Burgundy's brow twitched as she glared at the girl she hesitated to call her friend. Evidently, the pink-haired girl found Burgundy amusing enough to exchange numbers, but the words "supportive" or even "friendly" hardly described Georgia. "What did he do to you, anyway?" As always, Burgundy didn't bother to answer Georgia's query.

She already knew Georgia—and perhaps any other witnesses to her quest—viewed her ostentatious displays of hostility unreasonable, at best. Even Cilan seemed mostly bemused by, though strangely tolerant of, her actions. And even Burgundy would, privately, admit that as much as Cilan's arrogance grated on her nerves, she could hardly blame _all_ her vitriol on that once vice, the way she wanted to. She couldn't expose the logic that had directed her anger away from her family and towards an outward source. She wouldn't.

"How _drôle_. If I recall, you didn't make it to the League, either," Burgundy sniped instead. Georgia scoffed, and Burgundy belatedly recalled that Georgia never showed much interest in defeating the gyms aside from Opeleucid's.

"I'm not the one whining about it! If you called me just to complain about how you feel so unaccomplished, find someone else to pester." Tension hung between them until Georgia spoke up again. "Look. If it bothers you that much, just go out and do something about it. Catch a new Pokémon or something. That's what I'm doing. Next time I see Iris, my team is going to crush those dragon-types of hers. Of course, she'd better be able to _actually_ control them. How else can she call herself a dragon master?"

"The same way you call yourself a dragon buster," Burgundy shot back. Georgia's eye twitched. " _Peu importe_. I'll crush that _crétin_ the next time I see him."


	4. Éloignement (Estrangement)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burgundy had always valued her family and the time she spent with them, but within hours of her arrival she already regretted coming to visit.

Burgundy had already traveled halfway towards Luxuria before the realization that her home no longer existed settled in. Once she had restarted her journey—this time in search of Cilan—she had pushed all thoughts of her parents' move from her mind, barely calling her family once they finalized the move. The already infrequent phone calls had further decreased in number as her siblings began speaking in ICT tinged with Kalosian accents and stopped using Unovan entirely. As if the physical separation weren't enough.

With a sour taste in her mouth, she made her way back to Striaton City, the nearest town with an international airport, and called her parents, who aided her in arranging a flight to Laverre City. How strange it would be, calling a region she had only visited twice her new home.

She stepped out of the airport and straight into the arms of her family—including all the cousins and aunts and uncles she hadn't seen since Ruby was an infant. They crowded around her, pinching her cheeks, commenting on how smart she looked in her connaisseuse uniform, marveling at how much she had grown—Burgundy had to hold her tongue in response. Of course she had grown.

Burgundy had always valued her family and the time she spent with them, but within hours of her arrival she already regretted coming to visit.

Laverre was nice enough—it was a quiet, mostly residential city out in the countryside. The townsfolk admired the local gym leader's skill with fabric—many young girls Burgundy passed in the street hoped to join Valerie's legion of Furisode Girls, who wore beautiful outfits based on Napajian traditional wear. Burgundy admitted freely that the town, with its multitude of trees and natural scenery, was just as beautiful as she remembered.

But that wasn't the point. Laverre and Luxuria were miles apart—both in physical distance and in culture. Luxuria was Burgundy's home—she knew its streets, its people, its schedule. Laverre was a mystery.

It certainly didn't help that no one used ICT, but that could be specific to her family's habits. Her relatives jabbered in rapid-fire Kalosian that Burgundy, with her still-meager grasp of the language, couldn't hope to keep up with. Between her blank looks and explanations of the language barrier in halting, Unovan-accented Kalosian, her aunts and uncles clicked their tongues in disappointment. Reluctantly, they switched to ICT when directly addressing Burgundy for her benefit.

While her siblings—and, to an extent, her cousins—adeptly switched between languages, translating things they thought she would find interesting and explaining jokes, they also poked fun at her struggle to communicate even the simplest of ideas. Burgundy resisted the urge to strangle them all. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't speak Kalosian just as fluently. She didn't live here.

She had studied Kalosian in every bit of spare time she had on the road and could write paragraph after paragraph in her third language, but her lack of listening and speaking skills created a rift. In a room full of family, she remained alone. No one wanted to have a written conversation, after all. That was what letters were for.

In addition, her parents couldn't understand why she switched careers. _You've won four badges_ , they said. _Why would you give that up?_ Burgundy fumbled for an answer. Because she needed something new. Because her new profession originated in Kalos. Because she needed something to keep her mind off things. Because she wanted revenge. All of her reasons faltered under her family's scrutiny.

 _Learn Kalosian first_ , her parents finally said. _And then you will become un magnefiqué connaisseuse_. They asserted that she could not become a great connaisseuse, who relied on words as tools of the trade, if she failed to properly conjugate Kalosian verbs properly.

Yet they said nothing about the PCA, which required no Kalosian. They said nothing when she spoke of talented connoisseurs who never dipped into the Kalosian tongue. _C-class? What nonsense!_

While Burgundy felt inclined to agree that the ranking system meant little—that _crétin_ was an A-class, after all—she recoiled at her parents' dismissive attitude.

She didn't have the time to devote to learning only Kalosian. And what would she do in the meantime? The PCA would only pay her stipend—the one she used a significant portion of in order to fly out to Kalos in the first place—if she continued her connoisseuring studies. And it wasn't like she would use Kalosian outside of her family.

When she escaped her parents' house less than two weeks after her arrival, fleeing towards the familiarity of Unova, she laughed bitterly. She had worked hard to get to where she was. She worked hard advance her career, too. She spent hours pouring over online textbooks and expanding her vocabulary for the purpose of giving more nuanced evaluations.

She would show her parents and Cilan what she was capable of. She swore it.


	5. Désespoir (Despair)

Burgundy crumpled the letter of rejection in her fist, letting out a frustrated groan as tears pricked at her eyes. For the third year in a row, the PCA had rejected her application for B-class certification.

Letting out a shaky breath, Burgundy tossed her letter into a corner of her Pokémon Center room. Quite honestly, she had no idea where she went wrong.

The first year's rejection was disappointing but understandable. Burgundy had had only a year of real experience—not an unreasonably short amount of time, but she'd known the chances were slim at the time of her application. But she'd spent the years after throwing herself into connoisseur work. She'd even managed to wrangle an apprenticeship—although perhaps calling it that was too generous—with an S-class Connoisseur. He would, no doubt, be disappointed by her failure. Even if he had hardly helped her improve.

Her parents—if she cared to call them and inform them of the results—would no doubt be disappointed, too. Burgundy had just finished her fourth year in the profession and had yet to progress even one level. Such a detestable failure.

She needed some space. She ripped her pokéballs out from her bag, stuffing them into her coat pockets as she shut the door to her room behind her and ventured out.

As always, loneliness crept into the corners of her mind as she stalked down the road towards a local park, which was mostly empty on account of the cold winter weather. Mumbling Kalosian curses under her breath, she freed her Xtransceiver from her wrist and called the one person she could think of.

As she waited for Georgia to pick up the line, Burgundy felt her earlier tears of frustration sting more insistently at the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away quickly. Four years was a long time without progress. In four years, she could've become a fairly well-respected Pokémon trainer, the way Georgia, Bianca, and Stephan had. She laughed bitterly. She could always go back to Pokémon training.

"Are you Arceus-damned crazy?" Georgia snorted, upon hearing that train of thought. "You've worked for four years; you better not just throw that all away. You might as well get your B-class license out of this."

"It's not like I'm being serious about quitting," Burgundy snarled. Even in the tiny video screen, she could see Georgia flinch back. "At least _you_ have something to show for your efforts, Miss I-Just-Made-Top-Four-In-The-Ever-Grande-Conference." Georgia's eyes narrowed.

"Well if you're just going to quit because you didn't get what you wanted, then maybe you don't _deserve_ to have accomplished anything." It was Burgundy's turn to recoil. Georgia's scowl dropped. "That was harsh." It was the closest Georgia would get to admitting she made a mistake, but Burgundy continued to glare at her friend. As much as it pained her to admit it, Georgia had a point. But on some level, Burgundy didn't care.

"Some friend you are," she snapped instead, hanging up before Georgia could get a word in edgewise. Remorse flooded her almost as soon as her screen went dark, but she knew neither she nor Georgia would set aside pride to call back. Not right now.

Burgundy slumped forward, burying her face in her hands and finally letting herself cry. She'd made a damned mess out of her career, and now she'd  _also_ made a damned mess out of her friendship with Georgia, even if that had the potential to be easily fixable. She became acutely aware of her surroundings once more as a voice cut through her thoughts, inciting boiling rage somewhere in her gut.

"Burgundy?" Her head whipped up and her eyes narrowed in a practiced glare focused in on her target—the green-haired _bête_. Heat rose in her cheeks as she belatedly realized that she'd revealed a moment of weakness. "Are you all right?" The fact that he looked sincerely concerned about her well-being only served to piss her off further.

"You!" she hissed, ignoring the tears currently making their way down her cheeks. "What do you want, _salaud_?" She pressed her lips together at the vulgarity of her last word. It was unusually harsh, even for her, but she wouldn't take it back.

"I was merely concerned by the bitter aroma I sensed coming from you," Cilan replied pleasantly. Burgundy scowled. He had yet to so much as raise his voice against her, and part of her wished that he would. Arceus knew that it wouldn't be completely unwarranted.

She hadn't seen him in three years—he'd left Unova to pursue further study outside of the region, she'd heard. Yet he'd remained an odd constant in her life, acting as a beacon of sorts. She hadn't returned home in three years, nor had she really spoken with her family, and while she stayed in Unova—valuing its familiarity—she shifted around at a dizzying pace, with only the thought of finally beating him pushing her forward. Her hatred had remained untouched, her hostility bubbling beneath the surface at the very mention of his name.

"You know," Cilan said after a moment of heavy silence, "The world has many splendid tastes to offer—many of which cannot be found in what we already know." He paused. "They can bring many layers of nuance to one's palate."

"Don't think you can trick me so easily, _bête_ ," Burgundy huffed, sticking her nose in the air. Her glare hardened. "I have no doubt that you're just out to see me fail." Cilan sighed.

"I see," he said. "In that case, I wish you the best of luck." He smiled kindly once more before taking his leave. Burgundy watched his retreat before whipping her Xtransceiver back out.

"Missed me already?" Georgia asked as she picked up.

"Let me go to Sinnoh with you," Burgundy said quickly. " _S'il vous plait_?" Georgia's eyebrows shot up.

"If you want to travel with me, I don't really mind," Georgia said, leaning back and resting her head against her hands in an attempt at nonchalance. "Just don't slow me down. Got it?"

" _Bien sûr_ ," Burgundy replied. "And I promise you some of the best cuisine you'll ever taste, too." Georgia rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Just pack up. I'm flying to Jubilife City from Nimbasa next Monday, and if you're not there I'm not waiting for you."


	6. Torpeur (Numbness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aren’t you happy?” Georgia posed the question in a perfectly innocent tone over their celebratory dinner, but Burgundy froze. Four years of hard work had finally paid off, culminating in the certificate still lying on her bedside table in their shared room, yet she could hardly muster up a smile in response.

Burgundy wished she could say she smiled when she received her B-class certification. Or screamed. Or danced around the Pokémon Center room. Or hugged Georgia. Or hugged her Pokémon. She would even take crying.

Instead,  _Georgia_  was the one smiling to the point where her cheeks hurt. Georgia was the one who punched her fist upwards in victory. Georgia was the one to suggest going out to dinner in celebration. Georgia was the one who was happy, as much as she snarked about how it was about time Burgundy made the cut.

Burgundy allowed her friend to make the arrangements, figuring that the news just needed time to sink in. She’d made it to B-class.

“Aren’t you happy?” Georgia posed the question in a perfectly innocent tone over their celebratory dinner, but Burgundy froze. Four years of hard work had finally paid off, culminating in the certificate still lying on her bedside table in their shared room, yet she could hardly muster up a smile in response.

Maybe the years of stagnation still weighed heavily on her mind. Maybe she just hated the fact that Cilan had been right, that, in the end,  _he_  was responsible for her making it to B-class. That prospect certainly churned in her gut. Regardless, she couldn’t continue attribute her lack of enthusiasm towards her accomplishment to shock.

“Aren’t you?” Georgia prompted impatiently at Burgundy’s lack of an answer. “You’re not having another crisis, are you?” She jabbed her fork in Burgundy’s direction.

“ _Ridicule!”_  Burgundy snorted—a gesture she hadn’t allowed herself in years as part of an attempt at seeming more refined. “Of course I’m not having—“ She cut herself short, deciding that her response was perhaps too vehement. Georgia rested her chin in her hands, smirking. “If anything, you’re  _too_  happy.”

“But why wouldn’t I be happy?” Georgia asked innocently. “You’ve taken a big step forward. Maybe now you can actually think about getting to S-class.”

“Just get to the point.” Georgia crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

“Look, if you’re not happy, then get out,” she said simply. “That’s what I say.” Burgundy gawked.

“You’re the one who pushed me to keep going in the first place.” Georgia shrugged.

“Yeah, well, if it’s gonna make you hate yourself, then I change my mind.” Burgundy opened her mouth to protest—being a connaisseuse did  _not_  make her hate herself—but Georgia cut her off. “Take a break. If you want to come back, then you can get back in.” Burgundy eyed her friend warily. “Go back and get your revenge on that beanpole, or something. Isn’t that long overdue anyway?” Georgia snorted. “If you even still care about that. Arceus, I don’t even know what your deal with him was.”

“That  _crétin_  ruined my life,” Burgundy replied tersely. But even she had to admit that—as much as she cited his first lecture as the spark of her hatred, her hostility had less and less to do with the words spoken years ago out of casual, and perhaps unintentional, arrogance.


	7. Renaissance (Rebirth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burgundy reluctantly took Georgia's advice, splitting off from her friend in order to do a little bit of soul-searching, as awfully cliché as the phrase sounded. Initially, she intended to go somewhere new. Hoenn, perhaps, or maybe Johto. But a tiny part of herself, a part that she ignored frequently, knew that nothing would change by going there.

Burgundy reluctantly took Georgia's advice, splitting off from her friend in order to do a little bit of soul-searching, as awfully cliché as the phrase sounded. Initially, she intended to go somewhere new. Hoenn, perhaps, or maybe Johto. But a tiny part of herself, a part that she ignored frequently, knew that nothing would change by going there. So she reluctantly bought plane tickets to Kalos, mentally thanking the PCA for increasing her monthly stipend as part of her promotion in rank. She had to tackle her problems at the root. She'd procrastinated on it for years, pinning the cause of her misery onto someone else, someone who she didn't love, someone who she could keep chasing in the hopes that she would find something fulfilling along the way.

But instead, she'd lost herself entirely.

She wasn't at all ready to face her family, the real heart of the matter. She wasn't ready to poke into the emotions she'd buried under hatred years ago. She took great pains to circle around Laverre, where her family lived in ignorance of her return to Kalos.

She wondered if Winslow had left on his journey. Had he gone on his tenth birthday, the way most trainers did? Did he begin his journey late, just as she did? When she last saw him, Winslow already yearned to be on the open road with a pokémon by his side, but that was now approaching five years ago. Perhaps things had changed. And what about Ruby? Five years was over half of Ruby's life. Burgundy wondered if she would even recognize her younger sister. Would Ruby know who she was?

Burgundy attempted to bury those types of thoughts-no matter what she did, she always ended up falling into the same line of thinking. How  _pathétique_. But it was hard not to think about. She was surrounded by the language of her parents, for one, and every small child hanging off their parents, begging for just a bit of their parents' attention, even just an indulgent smile, reminded Burgundy of her own childhood.

She returned to battling, picking up a few gym badges here and there. Each gym presented its own challenges, ones that sometimes frustrated her to the point of tears and unnecessarily snippy remarks. For a while, she contemplated returning home when she had no other gym leaders left to defeat. She would return home to challenge Valerie. She picked up a few new pokémon, training each of them into a premium brand.  
Yet she began to miss the profession she left behind-something she would never admit aloud and only began realizing in retrospect. She never mentioned her license to any trainer she met, but she barely bit back the evaluations that came unbidden to the tip of her tongue even in the midst of battle. Whenever she passed other trainers, she found herself assessing everything she could determine about their bonds. In idle moments on the road, she even went so far as to match wild pokémon to the people she knew. A mischievous Kelfki for Georgia. An easygoing but stubborn Espurr for Bianca. An unusually poised Noibat for Cilan.

She supposed she had her answer. Being a professional trainer was all right, but something was missing. She dropped her original plan and promise-making a mental note to figure out a new one later-and took up residence in Santalune City, where the local connaisseuse, Inés, accepted her as an assistant. The older woman hadn't even taken a glance at Burgundy's qualifications, choosing instead to focus on the content of her character. Burgundy had, reluctantly and in still-hesitant Kalosian, explained the journey that led her to Inés' doorstep, leaving out any mention of her family. Inés had laughed several times throughout her story, causing Burgundy's cheeks to redden in embarrassment. But when Inés gave Burgundy her approval, she figured she must've done something right.

Inés, Burgundy soon found, had methods contrasting sharply with just about everything she ever experienced. The PCA's curriculum focused heavily on lecture and self-study, forcing Burgundy to tote around an e-reader wherever she went. Inés occasionally pulled a book off her shelves, instructing Burgundy to read a chapter here and there, but mostly put Burgundy to work.

"The PCA is useful," Inés conceded, "but they aren't infallible. One can know all the theory in the world, but what use is it if you cannot apply it? Non, we'll have none of that here. You must learn to develop your intuition, chérie. That is something you cannot measure in rank. It must be cultivated over time."

Burgundy relished the freedom Inés' tutelage offered. Unlike the other connoisseur she had worked with, Inés often asked for Burgundy's opinion during evaluations, which forced Burgundy to practice each time Inés saw a client. She offered praise when Burgundy brought up something new-in fact, Inés frequently left out certain details in the hopes that Burgundy would pick up on them-and she eventually began to allow Burgundy to lead evaluations. Burgundy had never been given such responsibility before, and the quality of her evaluations, along with her confidence, skyrocketed under Inés' tutelage.

"If I'd known your fixation would just switch from Cilan to Inés, I would've told you not to call me," Georgia grumbled once, but Burgundy knew that her friend was pleased, too. It just wasn't in Georgia's nature to say so. "Well, as long as you're fine with what you're doing, then I don't really care. Do what you want." Burgundy had only offered Georgia a saucy comment in response.

For the first time in a long while, she really was happy with what she was doing.

"Well done, chérie," Inés said after one particularly difficult evaluation that Burgundy had led. "I believe your evaluation is correct as it is." Burgundy's eyes widened in surprise-Inés' additional comments had lessened over time, but she almost always had one little thing that Burgundy had missed. "Perhaps I'll let you take some cases on your own. How does that sound?" Inés' eyes twinkled merrily.

"Really?"

"Oui. I think you're ready, Burgundy." Burgundy beamed as elation bubbled up from within. "You've made tremendous progress, both in language and in evaluations." Upon reflection, Burgundy realized that Inés was right. She had come a long way from the interview punctuated with filler sounds as Burgundy scrambled to find the right words to convey her thoughts. She still sometimes needed to compose her evaluations in her native language, but the evaluations were much richer in detail. The language that once felt so heavy and awkward on her tongue was now natural and spoken without hesitation, a striking contrast to the times Inés had gently pulled her aside after a client's departure to help with her phrasings. After living in Kalos for over a year, Burgundy finally felt the sense of belonging she craved.

Perhaps it wasn't the home she originally wanted, but Burgundy figured she could call Santalune home, too.


	8. Retour (Return)

If it weren't for the scrap of paper where she had scrawled down her family's new address all those years ago, Burgundy knew she wouldn't have found her parents' residence. She barely recognized the house she had only lived in for two weeks. The pale orange walls were just as unfamiliar to her as the rest of the city, and that knowledge alone was enough to cause a tear in her heart.

Burgundy swallowed nervously. Inés had lightly urged her to try and close the rift in her family, and Burgundy figured it would be remiss for her to return to Unova without seeing her parents even once. Yet she had no idea what she would say to them. She had her own reasons for deliberately missing their calls and forgetting to return them, but with her newfound maturity she recognized how much hurt and worry she must've caused her family. Would they even want to see her now? She doubted it. But running further from them was not an option. Or rather, it was an option she would never forgive herself for taking. She missed Winslow. She missed Ruby. She missed her parents. And she knew she would never feel quite right if she didn't at least try to patch things up with them.

She could do without the rest of her extended family. At only two meetings within the span of her memory, she really had no particularly meaningful memories of them, even if she held fondness for them on principle. But her parents and siblings deserved more than that.

Admittedly, part of her wanted to show her new skills to her parents, to show off her four Kalos gym badges—she now had a complete set altogether, in terms of plain numbers, even though she'd never be able to use them to compete in a League conference—and to show off her skills as a conaisseuse. She selfishly wanted them to be proud of her. But really, what part of this  _wasn't_  selfish? For all she knew, her parents had resigned themselves to having just two children. For all she knew, they didn't want to hear from her again. She couldn't blame them.

With a steeling breath, Burgundy rang the doorbell of her parents' home, realizing only afterwards that she had no idea if anyone was home. The door swung open, however, and Burgundy found herself face to face with Ruby. Ruby's lilac eyes-identical to her own, and the main reason Burgundy even recognized her younger sister-scrutinized Burgundy for a moment, and then she turned back.

"Maman, there's someone at the door _!"_ she called in perfect Kalosian. Burgundy's heart sank. "Please wait one second, mademoiselle. Maman says not to let in strangers _._ "

"She's quite right," Burgundy replied with a forced smile. "Your mother's taught you very well."

"Ruby _?_ " While Burgundy's sister was barely recognizable, her mother sounded—and looked—almost exactly the same. Burgundy's mother, upon seeing who was at the door, took on a shocked and angry expression. Ignoring Ruby's concerned questioning, she marched right up to Burgundy, who half-expected to be slapped. "You think it's acceptable to show up out of the blue after six years of no contact?" her maman demanded. Burgundy lowered her head in shame.

"I'm sorry _._ " The simple apology felt weak, but Burgundy couldn't think of anything else to say. Besides, any attempt at couching her apology in lengthy statements of remorse would only serve to anger her maman. It certainly would anger Burgundy herself. "Please forgive me _._ "

The door swung open further, and Burgundy's mother stood to the side, letting her in. Burgundy stepped over the threshold slowly, breathing in the scent of her parents' home. It smelled just the same as their house in Luxuria.

"Ruby, this is your older sister _,_ " her maman explained to a bewildered Ruby, whose eyes widened in excitement. "I'll go get your father _._ " Burgundy smiled awkwardly at Ruby, who stared at her with unabashed curiosity.

"You've grown," Burgundy said, laughing inwardly at the irony. How she hated it when anyone else said that to her! "You're ten now, right _?_ " Ruby nodded.

"I'm going to go on a Pokémon journey next month _!_ " she announced proudly. "Just like you." Burgundy smiled weakly.

"Oui. Just like me." She settled her hands onto Ruby's shoulders. "But don't follow my example, understand?" Ruby nodded solemnly, and Burgundy straightened up again as her mother returned with her father in tow. "Bonjour, papa," she greeted. "I'm home." How strange it felt, to call Laverre home. But she would make it home. She would make the adjustments she should have made six years ago, when her parents first came to live here.

She knew it would take a lot of work. She already anticipated the long conversations that would likely stretch late into the night, the apologies, the explanations, the amends, the promises she would have to make.

How ironic. At an age when most children declared further independence from their parents, she would spend her time growing close to them once more.


	9. Fermeture (Closure)

Burgundy stood in the small crowd of other successful A-class applicants, the ones who were enrolled in the PCA’s formal education program (as opposed to the online courses that many connoisseurs took) and the ones who opted to receive their certification in person. She swallowed nervously as she awaited the head of the PCA to call her name so she could receive her official A-class license. She could hardly believe that this day had already arrived—she had returned to Unova less than a year ago, when she decided it was time to finish up her formal education as directed by the PCA.

Her gaze swept around the rest of the crowd, taking brief note of how few women stood in the crowd of graduates alongside her, searching for her family. Her parents, now in a better financial state then they ever had been while living in Unova, had made the trip to see her graduate. Their relationship—while technically mended through a series of conversations that were _far_ too touchy-feely for Burgundy’s tastes—still retained a certain degree of coolness, yet that only made Burgundy appreciate the gesture more. Inés, she knew, was also present, along with Georgia. As corny as it sounded, Burgundy was grateful that the most important people in her life were here today. For so long, she’d imagined reaching this day with only Georgia, if anyone, at her side.

Her eyes spotted Georgia’s dark pink hair first, and through Georgia she quickly found the rest. Ruby and Winslow were practically hanging off Georgia, who looked less than amused at being roped into keeping an eye on Burgundy’s younger siblings. When Georgia caught Burgundy’s eye, however, she smirked and gave an encouraging nod.

 Burgundy felt giddy. She’d made it—in just a few moments her name would be called and she would officially be an A-class connaisseuse. She fought to keep her composure as she shook hands with the head of the PCA and received her certificate. Unlike a few of her male classmates, she did not raise her fists in a gesture of victory as she stepped off the stage and rejoined her fellow graduates, but she couldn’t stop the triumphant smile that spread across her features after being restrained all morning. She’d worked her butt off for this license, and unlike before her efforts had been solely for herself. She no longer felt the need to prove herself to anyone else—Inés had helped her with that. And, looking back, the desperation to prove herself better than Cilan and good enough to her parents only strangled her efforts, making her profession a chore rather than a calling.

 “I am sure you will open up a shop that rivals mine in quality!” Inés predicted as Burgundy joined her friends and family after the head of the PCA made his closing remarks. “I look forward to it.” Her eyes twinkled. “You’ve done well, chérie.”

 “I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for you,” Burgundy replied, her cheeks flushing quickly as she realized how mushy her words sounded. Clearing her throat, she added, “But of course my shop will rival yours. To do otherwise would be a shame!”

 “We’re very proud of you, Burgundy,” her maman said, patting Burgundy’s cheeks affectionately the way she did when Burgundy was a young child.

“You’ll give my Pokémon an evaluation, right?” Ruby interjected, her eyes sparkling in delight.

“Naturally,” Burgundy declared. “You won’t receive a finer evaluation anywhere. And that goes for you too, Winslow.” Her brother only rolled his eyes in response.

“You finally did it,” Georgia said, nudging Burgundy’s side with her elbow. “About time, Burgundy.” She linked her hands behind her head. “But y’know, I think I deserve some credit, too.”

“I would’ve achieved A-class just fine, thank you,” Burgundy refuted. Georgia snorted. “Although perhaps later than now.” Georgia’s expression abruptly shifted to mischief, and Burgundy narrowed her eyes at her friend. “What are—“

“I’ll bet there are plenty of others who want to talk to Burgundy,” Georgia announced loftily, already pulling Burgundy’s family and Inés towards the reception hall. “Let’s check out what kind of service the PCA has to offer, yeah? They better have something good to eat.” Burgundy was left wondering what on earth Georgia was thinking. The only person she really knew well in her classes was a girl named Alice, whom she’d already shared mutual congratulations with. She had not spent a long time in the A-class formal classes, especially with the PCA shifting her around to try and accommodate her unusual amount of experience. 

“Hello, Burgundy.” She froze momentarily before spinning around in shock.

“C-Cilan!” she squawked, clamping her mouth shut in a belated attempt at preventing herself from sounding so horribly undignified. He smiled amicably, in his usual fashion. “What are you doing here?”

“You _do_ attend the PCA branch located in my hometown,” Cilan chuckled. “I thought it would be appropriate to attend this year’s graduation.” He paused. Burgundy shifted her weight discretely, waiting for him to continue. Of all the people she could have run into, she wanted to see him the least. Not because she harbored any ill-will towards the man she once declared her enemy, but because she envisioned their meeting being horrendously awkward.

And horrendously awkward this was.

“Congratulations, Burgundy,” he said after an excruciating moment of silence. “You truly deserve you’re A-class ranking. I feel privileged to see you achieve this moment. Like wine, this moment has been aged through the years to create a special flavor!” Burgundy pressed her lips together as he continued to smile warmly. He hadn’t changed a bit—and in some ways she still appreciated that.

“Thank you,” she replied stiffly, internally hating the way that her cheeks grew warmer by the second. She hoped—futilely, if her cheeks were as red as she thought they were—that he wouldn’t notice. “I heard you received your S-class certification,” she blurted out. His eyebrows knitted together, and she internally winced. Surely, he expected her to lash out at him for besting her once again.

“Ah, yes, about a year ago,” he said haltingly.

“Belated congratulations.” Burgundy felt nervous heat course through her veins, and she discretely wiped her palms against the fabric of her slacks. “You deserve it.” Not quite an apology. She would need to give him one of those, too. Maybe one day she really would. His posture relaxed.

“An unexpected taste,” she heard him mumble under his breath, and this time she was certain her cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” he said in a louder tone.

“O-of course,” she quickly added, wincing at her stutter, “I fully intend on catching up to you.” She wondered if that statement was too close to the things she said all those years ago. But Cilan’s gaze softened, and his smile brightened in a way she had never seen before.

“I look forward to it,” he replied sincerely. “Rather, I eagerly anticipate the day you surpass me.” Burgundy nearly choked at the way he referenced their previous relationship, which consisted solely of her hurling insults and announcing that she would trounce him, though she was sure she never phrased her intentions in such gentle terms. “I believe that moment will have a wonderfully bittersweet taste. Don’t you?”

**Author's Note:**

> What began as an attempt to make sense of one of Pokeani's arguably most caustic characters turned into an exploration of cultural identity, which in turn led to this. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This work is crossposted from FFN.
> 
> -Nox


End file.
